Try to see things from my perspective
by zydratecomesinalittleglassvial
Summary: Dean never realized just how quickly everything could change...
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Supernatural or any of its' characters.**

"Mr. Winchester we're ready for you now." The nurse called, clip board in hand to read Dean's name as she pulled a wheelchair into his small cubicle.

Dean gave an aggravated sigh, "My head just hurts. I can walk fine." He complained and scowled down at the wheelchair.

"Sorry hospital policy." She replied and pointed to the seat he was supposed to take.

Dean decided not to fight and sat down in the chair with a pained sigh and allowed the nurse to push him through the winding halls of the hospital until they reached an automatic door with the words Radiology above them.

"Ok I'll just have you change into this gown and then we'll get the MRI started. It's a somewhat long procedure but we have headphones and cds for you to choose from so at least you can listen to music during the procedure." The nurse explained as she placed a blue hospital gown into his arms and left the room so that he could change in privacy.

Twenty minutes later Dean lay in a long narrow tube, headphones blaring Metallica into his head. He tried to stay as still as possible like the nurse had instructed and thought back to the day leading up to his current situation.

_**Twenty-Four Hours Earlier**_

"Dean he's on your ten!" Sam shouted.

Dean swiveled in the direction of his brother's directions, his shotgun held steady and level at chest height. The ghost they were currently hunting was headed straight at Dean, his arms outstretched to grab Dean. The ghost was one of the more hideous Dean could ever remember hunting, which was really saying something. He'd been burned alive by the father of the girl who he'd raped and murdered. Which Dean figured he'd probably deserved. But it didn't make for a handsome ghost that was for sure.

The flesh on his body was charred black, his clothing melted to his skin, and in some areas the skin had completely burned away so that scorched bone was visible in places. It also looked as if his face had melted. His eyeballs drooped down onto his cheeks and looked like melted plastic. His lips had the same sort of appearance.

The brother's had also discovered that the ghost's touch burned as if he were still on fire. Both Winchester men were sporting angry red burns in the shape of hand prints on their arms and torsos. Dean fired his gun before the ghost had the chance to burn him again and then smiled triumphantly as Casper dissolved into a shower of ash. It wouldn't stop him but it would give the brother's at least a little time to continue their search for any remains that may have been left behind where the man had died.

Lucky for them it was only a few minutes later when Dean spied a small piece of scorched finger bone resting underneath a derelict furnace in the corner of the basement. Smiling triumphantly Dean slid on his belly and reached his arm under the furnace where he was barely able to reach the tiny piece of bone.

He held the bone over his head. "Got it!" He yelled triumphantly. His triumph was cut short when he stood up and smacked his head into a pipe sticking out of the furnace. The pipe clanged loudly as his head connected and Dean let out a series of curses as he rubbed the already forming bump. It was right about then that his world went totally dark for a few seconds. His vision blacked out completely and a stabbing pain shot through his eyes towards the back of his skull. He lost his lunch in one powerful heave and staggered as a wave of dizziness washed through him. His vision cleared just as suddenly as it had gone and he managed to grab onto the furnace to keep from falling over.

"Dean!" Sam shouted with concern when he saw his brother stagger and then vomit.

Dean pressed a hand over his eyes and held the other out to Sam. "I think I'm ok. Here get this salted and burned." He insisted.

He watched warily for the ghost as Sam dropped the bone into a trash can, poured salt and lighter fluid over the bone, and then tossed a match onto the whole thing. The ghost made one final attempt to stop them just before Sam struck the match but the iron bar Sam was holding in his other hand took care of him and gave the Winchester the few seconds he needed to light the fire.

The ghost screeched in agony as for the second time in his existence he burned away to nothing. Dean let out a sigh of relief and allowed himself to lean against the wall and slide down to the floor. The pain in his head had let off some but it still felt like an icepick was stabbing into both of his eyeballs and into the back of his skull.

Sam hurried over to his big brother and squatted down beside him. "Dean?" He asked with concern.

Dean gave him a sheepish smile and forced himself to stand up. "I'm alright, just got a killer headache from smacking my head."

Sam gave him a typical Sam-type grimace. "You could have a concussion Dean. Maybe we should take you to a doctor."

Dean scoffed and gave his brother a wry smile. "A doctor? Please. If I don't go to the doctor when I get shot I'm definitely not going for a headache." He sneered and pushed past Sam to head out of the dirty basement.

Later that night Sam lay snoring in his hotel room bed while Dean tried in vain to sleep himself. The headache had grown worse in the passing hours to the point where Dean was fairly certain at any point his brain was actually going to explode out of his eyeballs. He'd had a lot of injuries in his life, it came with the job. The headache wasn't the most painful thing he'd ever experienced, but it was coming close. He'd already been to the bathroom to vomit more than once and every time he sat or stood up his vision would swim and go dim for a few seconds. The pain medicine he'd taken hadn't even touched the pain and Dean was beginning to worry that something was seriously wrong.

Dean let out a groan and turned over trying to find a comfortable position. The simple act of turning over made the headache even worse and his stomach clenched with nausea as his world swam before his eyes. He stood up quickly to try and make it to the bathroom before vomiting again. He took one step and then fell to the floor when his left leg failed to support his weight. He realized that not only was his leg not working but it was tingling and numb as was his left arm.

"Sam." Dean called quietly so that the noise wouldn't make the headache worse.

"Sammy!" He yelled louder when Sam failed to wake up. He winced as the sound of his own voice shot waves of red hot agony through his head.

Sam sat up and looked around in confusion, pulling a handgun out from under his pillow in one swift motion. He instantly dropped the gun when he saw his brother crumpled on the floor between their two beds. Dean looked terrible; he was pale, covered in a sheen of sweat, and his face was screwed up in obvious pain.

"Dean! Jesus what's wrong?" He asked loudly as he slid off the bed onto the floor beside his brother.

Dean winced and pulled away from Sam. "Not so loud, I think my head is going to explode." He mumbled. Sam felt close to panicking when he heard that Dean's words were slurred and saw the way his left arm and leg were laying limply beside him.

"We're going to the hospital." He ordered and worried when Dean simply nodded in agreement. Without another word Sam stood up and hurriedly put clothes on. He then helped Dean into a t-shirt and sweat pants before helping him out to the car.

Two hours later Dean was lying in an emergency room bed with an IV in his hand and a dopey smile on his face.

"Dude seriously Demerol is awesome!" He giggled as his head rolled back and forth on the pillow. "Look at the pattern on that curtain. It looks like a dolphin eating a dinosaur!" He slurred and pointed towards the curtain which blocked off his cubicle.

Sam just smiled and didn't reply. The curtain didn't look like any kind of sea or prehistoric creatures that he could make out and he figured that he'd need to be doped up on something to appreciate it.

After waiting a while longer the doctor finally returned with Dean's chart in his hands. "Alright Mr. Winchester I'm sorry it took me so long."

Dean waved a hand to show it wasn't a big deal and giggled again.

"Ah I see the Demerol has kicked in." The doctor said with a chuckle. "Well based on all the symptoms you've described I believe that you're suffering from a migraine. But just to be sure I'd like to schedule you for an MRI."

"An MRI? Is something seriously wrong with my brother?" Sam asked with concern.

The doctor shook his head and continued. "Like I said I believe that this is simply a severe migraine, but since he doesn't have a history of migraines and the fact that you told me he had a head injury earlier today I don't want to take any chances. Most likely the MRI won't show anything besides possibly a slight bit of fluid pressing on his brain from the bump he took. This fluid could in fact be causing the migraine so most likely all of this is connected."

After the explanation the doctor ran a few cognitive and physical tests on Dean. "So Mr. Winchester…"

Dean put up a hand and stopped the doctor. "M'names Dean." He mumbled.

"Alright Dean. Has the numbness you described on your left side improved?" The doctor asked as he ran the side of his stethoscope down Dean's arm and then leg.

Dean nodded and flexed his fist to show the doctor that his hand was working again.

"Good, now what about your vision? Are you still having loss of vision or blurred spots?" The doctor continued as he pulled out his pen light and shone it in Dean's right eye and then his left.

Dean squinted into the light. "Yeah it's still kinda messed up." He admitted.

The doctor gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "Don't worry vision difficulties are extremely common with migraines and should clear up as soon as the migraine subsides."

"K good." Dean answered.

"Do you have any questions before I go put in the order for the MRI?" The doctor asked as he prepared to leave the cubicle.

Dean shook his head and then leaned back against the pillow. Sam also shook his head and gave the doctor a thankful smile as the man slipped through the curtains.

After the MRI was complete a nurse wheeled Dean to a small private room even though he complained again that he didn't need a wheelchair. Sam looked up from the old copy of People magazine he was flipping through and gave his brother a smile. Dean returned the smile, feeling embarrassed with the attention he was getting and sat down on the bed.

"Everything go ok?" Sam asked.

Before Dean could answer his cellphone began ringing from the pocket of his sweats which were folded up on a counter with his other clothes.

"You want me to get that?" Sam asked since he was closer to the pile of clothing.

Dean nodded and watched as Sam pulled his phone out and checked the caller id. "It's Bobby." Sam informed him.

"Don't tell him I'm in the hospital." Dean warned, not wanting anyone else to know.

Sam nodded and then answered the phon. "Bobby hey it's Sam. Yeah Dean's right here; I was just closer to his phone. What? Are you ok? Good. Where are you? Ok um hang on."

Sam placed his hand over the phone speaker and looked to Dean. "Bobby's stuck up in the mountains. He kinda had to blow up his truck."

Dean raised an eye brow and smirked. "He blew up his truck?"

"Apparently there was a wendigo in it. He needs someone to come get him and we're the closest. He's about two hours away." Sam continued.

Dean nodded and pointed towards the door. "Go get him. I can take a cab back to the motel."

"You sure you don't want me to wait until you get the MRI results?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "I'm a big boy Sammy. I'll be fine. Tell Bobby if he blows up my car too I'm gonna blow him up."

Sam laughed and pulled his hand away from the phone. "Bobby? I'll be there as soon as I can."

After Sam was gone Dean picked up the discarded People magazine and began flipping through it as he waited for the doctor to come back. He sat impatiently for another forty-five minutes before the doctor he talked to earlier came through the door. Dean hadn't been worried before but the grim look on the doctor's face gave him a chill.

"Dean good to see you again, did your brother leave?" The doctor asked as he grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it closer to the foot of the bed so that he could talk with Dean face to face. "I've got the results of you MRI would you like me to wait until he gets back before I go over them with you?"

"No he had to go pick up a friend who's having car problems. I'm taking a cab home. You can tell me whatever it is. I'm mean what could be so bad? Do I have a brain tumor or something?" Dean said jokingly.

The doctor's lips tightened into a thin line. "Actually Dean that's exactly what you have."

A/N- This is the first time I've ever published fan fiction. I hope everyone enjoys the start to this story and I'll try to update soon. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Dean attempted to swallow past the lump in his throat and let out a harsh burst of laughter. "I was just joking Doc, are you serious?"

The doctor looked down at the MRI results and then back up at Dean, looking straight into the hunter's eyes, which Dean appreciated. "I'm afraid this is no joke Dean."

Dean swallowed again and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. "So- um… what does this mean? Am I going to die?" He asked quietly.

The doctor shook his head and gave Dean a sympathetic smile. "I won't lie to you Dean it's possible that this tumor could be fatal, but your chances of surviving are very very good. We caught the tumor early. In a way you hitting your head today was a bit of a blessing. It was probably enough to shift the tumor so that it began pressing on a nerve, which is what's causing your sudden symptoms. Also in my experience tumors like the one I'm seeing on your MRI are almost always benign."

"Benign?" Dean asked.

"It means non-cancerous. Which is obviously extremely good news. If the tumor is benign you won't have to deal with chemotherapy or radiation, plus your chances of survival are greatly increased." The doctor reassured him.

Dean took a deep breath and tried to relax his body. "Ok well that sounds like good news, I guess. So what happens now?"

It was the doctor's turn to look nervous. "We need to schedule you for surgery as soon as possible and get the tumor removed."

Dean held up a hand. "Wait you're going to operate on my brain?"

The doctor nodded and scooted even closer to Dean, still maintaining the eye contact. "Yes we need to get the tumor out before it grows any bigger. I know the idea of having your brain operated on is scary, but the surgeon who will be doing the surgery is very good."

A sudden knocking on the door interrupted the doctor from further explanation. The door cracked open and another doctor poked his head in. The doctor talking to Dean smiled and motioned for the new man to enter the room.

"Dean this is Dr. Mcguire, he's the surgeon who will be performing your surgery if you choose to have it done here at this hospital." The ER doctor explained. "I'm going to let him explain things in more detail to you since this is his area of expertise."

Dr. Mcguire entered the room and shook Dean's hand and then began typing on the computer which was sitting on the same counter as Dean's clothes.

"I'm sorry about the bad news Mr. Winchester, but I can promise you I'm going to do everything in my power to get you through this." He said as he continued to type.

"Call me Dean." Dean instructed and then looked with interest at the screen where suddenly the images from his MRI scan were displayed.

"Alright Dean I'm going to be completely honest with you about everything. But I have to ask is there someone we can call to come be with you while we talk?" Dr. Mcguire asked as he manipulated the images of Dean's brain.

Dean shook his head and gave the doctor a tight lipped smile. "My brother had to go help a friend. You can tell me whatever it is you need to, I can handle it."

Dr. Mcguire scrutinized Dean before nodding and taking the last available seat in the room. "Ok well if you're sure. I have some good news and I'm afraid I have some extremely bad news as well."

Dean's heart sped up with fear at the doctor's words but nodded for the man to continue. "Just give it to me straight."

"According to your scan there is a tumor located near the back of your brain directly on the Occipital Lobe. Most likely the tumor is benign and we should be able to remove it without any complications except…" The doctor hesitated then and Dean knew that whatever he was about to say was the extremely bad news he'd mentioned before.

"Whatever it is you gotta say, just spit it out." Dean snapped.

"Dean the Occipital Lobe is the area of the brain which controls sight. When we remove the tumor it's going to cause significant impairment to your vision." Dr. Mcguire revealed.

"How significant?" Dean asked in a shaky voice.

"We actually won't know that for sure until we do the surgery and find out just how much the tumor has grown into the Occipital Lobe. But I can tell you from the scan that the tumor is fairly large. I don't think the chances of you coming out of the surgery with any useable vision are very good." Dr. Mcguire admitted.

"Are you telling me that I'm going to be blind or something?" Dean asked, not really believing what he was hearing.

"It's possible that you won't lose all of your eyesight. Hopefully you will still be able to tell the difference between light and shadow or possibly even be able to make out the general shapes of objects and people. But you will be legally blind after the surgery, yes. I'm so sorry to have to give you such bad news." The surgeon admitted.

For a second it seemed like the air had been sucked out of the room. Dean was suddenly very aware of his pulse beating in his temples. So many thoughts flew through his head that Dean could barely process them. He wouldn't be able to be a hunter anymore. Hell was there anything he'd be able to do if he was blind? He'd be helpless. Dean brushed a hand over his eyes and swallowed past the thick lump in his throat, struggling desperately to keep his emotions under control.

"So- um… I don't know what to say. Can't we just leave the tumor alone since you don't think it's cancerous?" Dean asked hopefully.

The doctor shook his head and gave Dean a look of sympathy. "The tumor is growing. If we don't remove it, it will continue to press on your brain. Not only will the pain, vision problems, and numbness continue they'll get worse. The tumor could cause you to have a stroke which could lead to permanent physical and mental disabilities. Plus it will certainly cause you to go blind if left untreated."

Dean felt the last bit of hope he'd been holding onto fade away. "When are you going to do the surgery?" He croaked in a voice he hardly recognized.

"I'd like to schedule it for as soon as possible. The sooner we get it out the more chance you have of keeping some of your vision. I've checked my schedule and the next available date we have for an operating room is in three days. If you agree to it, I'd like to do the surgery then. If you'd like to get a second opinion I can recommend some doctors you can speak with, but like I said the sooner we do the surgery the better."

Dean stood up from the exam table and began pacing the small room. "Do you think these other doctors will be able to tell me anything different?"

Dr. Mcguire shook his head sadly. "No I don't believe they can. I'm sorry but your scans were very clear, there really isn't any alternative to what I've already explained to you."

Dean stood still for nearly a minute before finally nodding. "Ok, schedule the surgery." He whispered.

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Thanks again for reading! Reviews anyone? They would be much appreciated, I'd like to know if people are interested in me continuing to post this story or not.


	3. Chapter 3

An hour later Dean stepped out of the hospital into the bright late morning sunlight. He squinted his eyes against the glare and bitterly thought that in just a few days that was one problem he wouldn't be having any longer. In one hand he carried a prescription for pain killers to help him get through the next three days. In the other hand he carried a hospital plastic bag filled with paperwork. There was his discharge forms and MRI results, instructions for how to proceed before the surgery, and information on rehabilitation centers in the area. The surgeon told him that as soon as he had recovered enough from the surgery to be let out of the hospital he would be transferred to a rehab care unit to teach him the skills he would need to live independently as a blind person.

Dean scoffed at the mention of living independently without his sight. How would that even be a possibility? How would he feed himself without being able to see what he was cooking, he could barely cook now with two functioning eyes. How would he dress himself without being able to see what he was putting on? Plus there was the fact that he'd no longer be able to drive himself anywhere.

The realization that he'd no longer be able to drive hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd never be able to drive the Impala again. His baby, the one constant love of his life and he'd never be able to drive her again.

As he stood in the parking lot Dean debated his options. His first thought was to just walk over to the freeway which was located near the hospital and throw himself into traffic. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the fear that maybe the Catholics were right and if he killed himself he'd end up in Hell. He'd already had one trip down there and wasn't willing to repeat the experience. Being blind couldn't possibly be any worse than what would be in store for him in Hell. Plus he wasn't a coward and throwing himself in front traffic seemed pretty damn cowardly to him.

His next thought was to go get as drunk as he possibly could. Flat out, fall on his ass, blind drunk. He chuckled at the irony of that thought. But the instructions for his surgery had been clear about the fact that he couldn't drink any alcohol before the surgery as they worried it would thin his blood.

His third thought was that he wanted to go take a long drive in the Impala, too bad he'd loaned it to Sam to go pick up Bobby. Sam? Damn what was he going to tell Sammy? They wouldn't be able to hunt together anymore. Dean figured he'd probably end up becoming a burden on his younger brother. Who the hell else was going to take care of him? Maybe he could go live with Bobby or something, but the idea of taking charity from the older hunter was even worse than taking it from his brother. Anyway he looked at it he was going to end up ruining the life of someone he cared about.

As all of these thoughts tumbled through Dean he felt the breath leaving his body and he began to feel light headed. He realized he was close to having a full blown panic attack and forced himself to breathe evenly in through his nose and out through his mouth until the feeling past.

Once he'd calmed down some he dialed a cab company and had it drop him off at the motel. It was dark inside the room since the heavy curtains were pulled across the window and they hadn't bothered to leave any lights on when they'd left the night before. Instead of turning on the lights Dean walked into the nearly pitch black room with his hands held out in front of him, trying to experience a taste of what would soon become his permanent reality. He'd only walked about two feet before he tripped over the cord to Sam's laptop and ended up sprawled on the floor, one elbow and both knees stinging from the fall. This was what it was going to be like from now on. Tripping over stuff, falling, looking like a helpless idiot. That was going to be the rest of his life. Jesus he should have thrown himself in traffic earlier when he'd thought of it.

Suddenly feeling exhausted Dean didn't even have the energy to climb up onto the bed. Instead he simply turned over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He figured he should be out looking at the world, trying to see everything he could while he still had his vision, but all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep so that he could forget everything he'd learned that day. Using the last tiny bit of energy that he had Dean climbed up onto his bed and pulled the pillow over his head. As he began to doze off he felt a dull throbbing pain at the back to his head. The pain was like the ticking of a clock in his head, counting down every precious second of sight he had left.

After dropping Bobby off at his own motel Sam hurried back to his room, anxious to make sure that Dean was alright. He found his brother passed out on his bed, he hadn't even bothered taking off his shoes. Sam smiled and figured the pain medicine must have really knocked him out.

"Hey you still alive over there?" Sam asked loudly and smacked Dean's foot to wake him up.

Dean sat up suddenly and then clapped both hands to his head in obvious pain. Without saying a word to Sam he pulled a prescription bottle out of his pocket and dry swallowed two pills.

"Your head still hurting bro?" Sam asked with concern.

Dean nodded and cleared his throat. "Not as bad as it was before." He assured his brother.

Sam smiled with relief, "So what was the verdict? You dying or something?" He joked.

Dean forced his face to go blank and then gave his brother a smile. "Nope not dying, sorry little brother you're stuck with me."

Dean sounded light hearted but something about the look on his face and the tone of his voice worried Sam. "What about the MRI, was it ok?" He asked seriously.

"Yeah it was like the doctor figured, just a migraine." Dean answered and then hurried into the bathroom without another word.

Dean stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower. While he waited for the water to heat up he stared into the mirror studying his reflection. In less than three days he was never going to see his own face again, at least not with any type of detail. He began to think of all the other things he'd miss seeing; his brother, his car, sunsets, sunrises, the stars, plus a million other things he was going to miss.

Sam listened to the sound of the shower begin running in the bathroom. He knew something was up with Dean. The man was a good liar, he had to be in their line of work, but Sam could tell his brother was keeping something from him. Feeling slightly guilty about betraying his brother's trust Sam began looking through the bag of paperwork Dean had brought back with him from the hospital. It only took a few seconds for Sam to find what he was looking for; surgical orders for three days from then. Sam wasn't a doctor but he was smart enough to decipher most of the medical jargon on the pages.

Dean had a brain tumor. A brain tumor that was being removed from his head in three days. Why the hell had Dean lied to him about something that serious? Sam waited impatiently for nearly forty-five minutes before the shower turned off and Dean walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel slung low on his hips.

He stopped short when he saw Sam sitting on the bed holding the stack of paperwork from the hospital. "Going through my stuff now?" He asked angrily.

"Only when I know you're lying to me about something important." Sam replied. "Why the hell didn't you tell me about this Dean? I'm mean god didn't you think it was important to let me know you're having brain surgery in three days?" Sam snapped.

Dean sighed and began rifling through his bag for clothes. He then began yanking them on, obviously frustrated. "Look I just wanted a little more time to deal with things before I told you ok?"

"Well what did the doctors say? How serious is this? Is it cancer?" Sam fired the series of questions rapidly.

"The doctors don't think it's cancer and they're pretty sure they'll be able to get all of the tumor out without killing me." Dean replied.

Sam let out a long breath and smiled. "Well that is great news. I mean it sucks that you have to have brain surgery but I'm sure you'll be fine. I mean you're young and healthy. You'll be fine."

Dean grimaced. "It's not that simple Sammy. The tumor is growing into the part of my brain that controls my sight. The doctor isn't a hundred percent sure but he's almost positive that after the surgery I'm not going to be able to see. At least not see very much."

Sam stared at Dean for nearly a minute, a look of shock and pity etched clearly on his features. "Oh God Dean. That's- I mean we should get a second opinion. Making you blind can't be the only option."

Dean shook his head and held up a hand to stop Sam's tirade. "Sammy I trust Dr. Mcguire. He offered to give me some names of doctors for a second opinion, but trust me if you'd seen the look on his face. Well believe me he didn't give me the news lightly. I think if there were any other options at all he would have suggested them first. He stressed that this is time sensitive."

"This can't be happening. Dean we'll figure something out I promise. We have options other than medical. Maybe a spell or talisman… I can't let this happen to you. Just don't get the surgery and we'll take care of it some other way." Sam protested.

"Sammy stop!" Dean interjected. "You think I want to be blind? But we have to face facts. If I don't get this surgery I'm going to go blind anyway; plus a whole bunch of other nasty things that could happen to me from the tumor growing."

"How can you be so calm about this Dean?! This is your eyesight we're talking about!" Sam shouted.

Finally Dean began to feel some of the emotions he'd been trying to push down since he'd heard the news.

"Don't you think I know that Sammy! Jesus I'm going to be a helpless cripple! I wish I was dead right now! But I'm not and I sure as hell don't want to end up a freakin vegetable so I'm gonna have the damn surgery and hope to God that the doctor was wrong about how bad this thing is." Dean stopped yelling and tried desperately to take a deep breath. It felt like his throat was closing and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't draw enough air into his lungs.

Sam stood up and hurried to Dean's side directing him to the side of the bed and pushing until he put his head down between his knees. "Just breathe Dean. Calm down. It's going to be ok. No matter what happens you won't be helpless. You're the most self-reliant person I know. If anyone can handle this it's you."

Dean leaned against his brother, grabbing the sleeve of Sam's t-shirt and twisting it in his fist. Sam put his arm around his brother trying desperately to let his brother know that he wasn't alone in this.

"I don't want to do this Sammy. I don't, I don't, I don't." Dean cried into his brother's shoulder.

"I know Dean. I know."

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A/N- Thank you to the people who reviewed you are awesome! I also thought I should probably let people know the time frame during which this story is happening. I basing it right after Dean got back from Hell but before they started working with Castiel.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam spent most of the night on the internet doing what he did best, research. But instead of searching for clues to their latest hunt he'd searched for some glimmer of hope that could save his brother from a lifetime of darkness. To his everlasting frustration he hadn't found a damn thing. Every medical journal or paper he'd been able to find about brain tumors on the Occipital lobe had said the same thing; the only treatment was removal of the tumor and that always ended with some level of visual impairment.

He'd read about some cases where people had come through the procedure and had retained nearly all of their vision needing only a pair of glasses to treat the problem. Sam held onto the hope that this would be the case for Dean, but he doubted it. From the way Dean had explained what the doctor had told him it didn't sound like the doctor held out any hope for that eventuality.

After exhausting his search on the internet Sam snuck out of the motel room and called Bobby. He explained everything they'd learned that day and then waited for Bobby to respond. There was a long moment of silence before Bobby responded.

"So the doctor doesn't think there's any hope of Dean keeping his vision?" He asked, just to confirm the terrible news.

"From what Dean said the doctor said he might be able to make out the shape of objects or possibly determine the difference between light and dark, but beyond that he wasn't very hopeful. Bobby we have to do something to help him. A spell or charm or… hell I don't know. Anything!" He insisted passionately.

"Sam look I'm sorry as hell about what's happening to Dean, but you know as well as I do that it just don't work that way. If we start messing around with magic and Dean's brain we could make things a whole lot worse." Bobby reminded Sam.

"Worse than being blind for the rest of his life?" Sam shouted.

"Look son I'm not saying that I won't look into this for you, but I don't want you getting your hopes up and I sure as hell don't want you getting his hopes up. I'll do everything I can to figure out something to help Dean, you know I will. But I'm not willing to put him at risk of anymore injury. This is terrible, but Dean will eventually adjust and move on with his life. Putting his sanity, his brain, or his soul at risk isn't worth it." Bobby retorted.

"Fine then what about my soul? Maybe I could go to the cross-roads demon. Make a deal with her for Dean's sight." Sam suggested.

"Don't you dare Sam!" Bobby shouted into the phone. "Dean would never forgive you for doing that."

"He did it for me!" Sam yelled back.

"Yeah to bring you back from the dead! And I told him it was a damn stupid move when he did it too!"

Sam sighed harshly and ran a hand through his hair. Logically he knew Bobby was right. Dean would never forgive him if he sacrificed his soul for Dean's sight. But it still didn't stop Sam from feeling helpless and frustrated to know that he could do something to save Dean's sight and wasn't able to do it. If the situation were reversed Dean would do it for him. But Sam knew he would hate him for it.

Feeling like a failure Sam begrudgingly said goodbye to Bobby and returned to the room. He fell into bed without getting undressed and slept.

Sam woke up the next morning when he heard Dean moving around the room. The room was pitch black and when Sam glanced at the alarm clock he saw that it wasn't yet five in the morning.

"Dude where the hell are you going so early?" He mumbled still half asleep.

Dean shrugged and picked up the keys to the Impala where they were resting on a table. "Only got two days left, I'm not gonna waste them." He explained.

Sam jumped out of bed and pulled on his jeans. "Wait just a second and I'll come with you." He instructed.

"Sammy I just want to be myself today." Dean replied.

Sam sighed and continued dressing. "Dean no offense but do you really think you should be driving right now? I mean didn't you say your vision is still all screwed up?"

There was a long pause before Dean finally replied. "Alright come on then." He muttered bitterly.

Once they were both seated in the car Sam turned to his brother, "So what do you want to do today?" Sam asked as he started the engine.

"I want to drive my freakin car Sammy that's what I want to do." He snapped.

Sam thought for a few seconds and then nodded. "Ok." He said simply and began to drive away.

Half an hour later they were out of town on a long stretch of dirt road which meandered through a small grove of trees and into a long field of wild flowers and tall grass.

"I figure if you do go off the road at least you can't do any damage out here." Sam explained as he climbed out of the driver's seat and walked around to the passenger seat.

Dean climbed out and gave his brother a sad smile. "Thanks Sammy. You gonna mind driving all the time from now on?"

Sam laughed a little as he sat down. "Dean you've been driving everywhere since we were sixteen, I think I can handle taking over for a while."

He meant the comment to be taken light heartedly but he realized that he wouldn't just be taking over for a while; he'd be taking over for the rest of Dean's life. It suddenly sunk in that this was going to be permanent. Whatever happened after the surgery Dean wasn't going to recover from. Maybe he'd be able to see enough to get around ok, but he wouldn't be the same. He'd be handicapped. The weight of that notion hit him like a ton of bricks. He hated to think of how hard things were going to become for his brother very soon. Didn't Dean have it hard enough? Hadn't he done enough good things in his life to not deserve this? Dean had saved countless lives, including Sam's. That alone should have exempted him from something like this. Dean had given up his life and gone to Hell for him, Sam would do anything to return that favor and yet there was no way he could stop this from happening.

Dean drove for hours circling through the forest and into the field and then back again. Just before lunch time he finally pulled over and turned off the engine. Sam could see obvious signs of pain on his brother's face.

"Maybe you should take another pain pill." Sam suggested.

When Dean swallowed two without arguing Sam realized how much pain his brother was in.

"Guess you better drive now that I'm all drugged up. Plus my vision is getting pretty screwed up anyway; I don't want to risk hurting my baby." Dean said sadly.

Sam chose not to comment and instead headed back towards town to find a diner they could eat lunch at. After they'd eaten Sam headed back to the motel without consulting Dean. He knew if he asked his brother what he wanted to do Dean would come up with something and Sam could tell that Dean was barely staying on his feet. Dean didn't protest and practically fell into bed.

"This sucks man. They give me three days of sight left and all I want to do is sleep. I should be out looking at things, enjoying them ya know?" Dean grumbled, his voice already slurring as he fell asleep.

When he woke up again it was dark outside. He found Sam sitting on his bed with his eyes glued to his laptop.

"So you find any miracle cures for me yet?" He quipped.

Sam jumped at the sudden sound of Dean's voice. "How'd you know that's what I was doing?"

Dean laughed loudly. "Come on Sammy, of course you're doing research. What else would you be doing? So like I asked did you find anything?" He tried to sound like he was teasing, but Sam could hear the hope in his voice.

"No I'm sorry. I haven't found anything medical. But I was thinking that maybe we could try the cross-roads demon…"

"No! No freaking way Sam. I'd rather be blind than go back to hell. That bitch isn't getting my soul again." He shouted.

"I wasn't thinking you could make a deal with her. I was thinking I could." Sam revealed, cringing at the outburst he knew was coming.

Instead of an outburst Dean calmly sat up and stared at his brother. Somehow this was even scarier than the shouting Sam was expecting. "Are you serious? There is no way in hell I'm letting my little brother go to hell just so I can see. I swear to God Sammy if you go behind my back and go to her, that's it. I won't forgive you for that. You think I'd be able to ever enjoy seeing again if I knew the price it came at?"

Sam stood up and moved to Dean's bed and put a hand on his brother's arm to stop his tirade. "Ok Dean. Ok I won't go to the cross-roads demon I promise."

"You better keep that promise Sammy, I mean it." Dean threatened. "Now come on. I'm not wasting any more time in this damn motel room."

Dean pulled on his boots and walked to the door, tossing Sam the car keys as he walked. Dean instructed Sam to drive them to the same country road they'd been to that morning. Sam was surprised when instead of getting behind the driver's seat again Dean climbed onto the hood and lay down with his back against the windshield. Sam stepped from the car and joined his brother. When he looked up he saw a nighttime sky full of stars.

"I think I'm going to miss looking at the stars the most. You know besides looking at naked women." Dean joked.

Sam laughed. "How can you be so calm about all of this Dean? If it were me I'd be losing my mind."

Dean thought for a few seconds before he shrugged. "I don't know Sammy what should I do? Spend my last three days of sight feeling sorry for myself? Or being angry at the world. I'm sure that will come once I'm stumbling around banging into things. Right now, I just want to appreciate every second of sight I have left."

Sam was amazed once again by his brother's strength.

"Besides, I've already managed to escape from Hell. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to get another miracle." He whispered as he kept his gaze fixed on the stars above him.

A/N- Hope everyone enjoys. Reviews? Pretty please?


	5. Chapter 5

Dean woke up the morning before his surgery with a splitting headache. It seemed as if red hot pokers were being driven through his skull. His vision swam so much that just making it from his bed to the bathroom was a monumental challenge.

He hurriedly swallowed three pain pills, despite the directions on the bottle saying he should only take one at a time. After taking the pills he cautiously made his way back to bed and tried lying as still as possible to avoid throwing up the medicine. He hurt so much that a part of him was actually looking forward to the surgery. He might be blind afterwards but at least he wouldn't be in agony anymore. As soon as that thought crossed his mind Dean became angry with himself for even thinking it.

Sam knew as soon as he saw Dean that his brother wasn't doing well. He was pale, sweating, and shaking all over. He had both eyes screwed shut and his brow was furrowed in pain.

"Dean? You want me to get you your pain medicine?" He asked quietly so as not to make the headache any worse.

Dean shook his head, a tiny infinitesimal movement which sent daggers of pain through his already pounding skull. "Already took some." He groaned.

Sam felt utterly helpless as he watched his brother writhe in pain. He hurried to the bathroom and wet a washcloth in cold water. He brought the cold compress to Dean and gently laid it over his forehead and eyes. Dean sighed with relief and gave Sam a shaky smile.

"Thanks this actually helps a little." He whispered.

"Will you be alright if I go get us some breakfast? You shouldn't leave those pills on an empty stomach or they might make you sick." Sam explained.

Dean's stomach turned at the thought of food, but Sam was trying so hard to help him that he didn't have the heart to refuse him.

"I'll be fine. Get me some bacon." He instructed.

"You got it." Sam promised as he left the room.

Dean removed the cold cloth for long enough to take a look at the clock. It was just past nine in the morning. His surgery was scheduled for eight the following morning and his stomach dropped when he realized he had less than twenty-four hours left with his sight. Not even a day left to try and burn into his brain the memory of everything he'd never see again and he couldn't even manage to crawl out of bed. It suddenly struck Dean just how supremely unfair the world was.

His brooding was interrupted a few minutes later by a knocking at the door. Sam had only been gone ten minutes so Dean knew it couldn't be him and he was annoyed by the fact that it was probably the maid ignoring the DO NOT DISTURB sign they'd placed on the door the night before.

"We don't need the room cleaned." He called, wincing as the sound of his own voice drove nails into his head.

"It's me Dean." He heard Bobby call from the other side of the door.

_Dammit Sammy!_ He thought angrily, he didn't want anyone to know about what was happening but obviously Sam had called Bobby.

With an effort that seemed gargantuan Dean climbed off of his bed and stumbled towards the door. He opened it and winced as bright morning light filled the room. He stepped back so that Bobby could enter and hurried back to his bed as quickly as he could.

Bobby was shocked by how bad Dean looked. He'd tried to prepare himself for seeing Dean after the surgery, but it hadn't really occurred to Bobby that the younger man would be in so much pain beforehand.

"Let me guess Sam called you?" Dean asked as he placed the cloth over his eyes again.

"Well yeah ya idjit of course he did. He's worried about you and he was just trying to do everything he could to help." Bobby explained as he took a seat in the one chair in the room.

"Ya need me to get ya something Dean? No offense but you look like crap." Bobby continued.

Dean let out a slight chuckle. "That's some bedside manner you've got there Bobby. Don't you know you're supposed to be nice to the guy with a brain tumor? Did Sam tell you everything?"

"I think so. I'm sorry this is happening to ya son. It ain't fair."

Dean hated the sound of pity in Bobby's voice, but he figured he'd better get used to it. He was pretty sure he'd be hearing pity in people's voices a lot once he was blind. "So I'm guessing Sam called to see if you knew of something we could do to help me get my sight back or get rid of the tumor or something."

Bobby chuckled, "You know your brother too well Dean."

"You can't think of anything can you?" Dean phrased it like a question, but it was obvious he already knew what Bobby was going to say.

"I'm sorry but so far I've come up with jack shit. I mean I found a few spells that might work, but if something went wrong you'd be a lot worse off than just not being able to see. You know how this stuff works Dean, mystical healings are never as simple as they might seem. There's always a price." Bobby explained regretfully.

Dean waved a hand to show that he wasn't angry with Bobby. "S'ok I kinda figured there wasn't anything we could do."

"I won't stop looking Dean, I promise. If I find anything that might actually work you'll be the first to know." Bobby promised.

Dean pulled the washcloth off of his eyes and gave the older hunter a thankful smile. "I know you won't stop looking Bobby. Thanks. Sorry bout yer truck by the way. How the hell did ya let a windigo get into it?"

Bobby laughed heartily, "The damn thing climbed in the cab while I was behind a tree taking a leak. I come back and there it is tearing up the seats. I tried luring it out, but it didn't cooperate. Finally I just threw a can of gasoline at the truck and lit the whole thing on fire. I gotta say it sucked losing my truck but that was one damn effective way of killing a windigo. You boys finish that hunt you were on?"

Dean was glad to be talking about something other than his current predicament and he relayed the details of the hunt to Bobby until Sam returned later with two Styrofoam boxes of diner food. Sam slapped Bobby on the back and thanked him for coming. He also dutifully ignored the annoyed glare Dean gave him about telling Bobby in the first place.

As they ate breakfast the three men talked about demons, guns, and anything else they could think of besides the subject of Dean's illness. Bobby left two hours later to go secure his own motel room. Dean had protested and insisted that Bobby didn't need to stay in town. Bobby quickly told Dean to shut the hell up and deal with the fact that he'd be staying until he knew Dean was alright.

After Bobby was gone Sam sat across from Dean and pulled out the hospital paperwork the doctor had given Dean. "So I know you don't want to talk about this Dean, but the hospital called your cellphone last night after you fell asleep. They need to know which rehab center you want to go to after you get released from the hospital so they can make arrangements for you to stay there." He explained and handed Dean a handful of pamphlets from the different rehabilitation centers.

Dean set the brochures aside without even glancing at them. "I don't want to go to any rehab centers Sammy. Can't we just hit the road again once I'm released and figure things out from there?" Dean asked.

"I wish we could Dean, but we have to be realistic. There's going to be a lot of things you'll need to relearn how to do and you need to go somewhere that can teach you those things." Sam explained gently.

"I'll figure it out on my own Sammy. I know it won't be easy but I can do it without a bunch of pansy ass therapists helping me." Dean snapped.

It was obvious that Sam was annoyed with him, but he didn't snap back when he responded. "Dean are you going to be able to teach yourself how to read Braille? Or how to use a cane to walk around by yourself? Plus I'm sure there are a lot of other things that they'll teach you that we haven't even thought of."

Dean knew that Sam was right but it didn't make him like the idea of being stuck in some nursing home any better. "What's the point? I mean it's not like I'm going to be able to take care of myself anyway. I don't see why I should waste my time and money learning how to do a bunch of shit that won't matter."

"Dean I've done a lot of reading over the past two days about people living with vision impairment. Most blind people can live perfectly fine on their own. You'll just need to learn how to do the things you do now in different ways. But I can promise you that you're not going to be helpless and you will be able to take care of yourself. That's the point of going to a rehab center, they'll teach you how to be independent." Sam argued.

"Fine Sammy I'll go. I still don't buy this whole independent thing, but if it'll get you to shut up about it I'll go." Dean picked up the discarded pamphlets and began flipping through them.

"This one." He decided a few moments later and held one of the brochures out to his brother. It was for a center in Colorado called The Hetfield Center for the Visually Impaired.

"Why this one?" Sam asked curiously.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know I just think Colorado's kinda nice. Plus the Hetfield center, I mean that's awesome!"

Sam looked at him blankly.

"Dude you know Hetfield, as in James Hetfield the leader singer of Metallica. Seriously Sammy sometimes I can't even believe we're related." Dean joked.

"Hey I might not know all the music crap you do-"

"Metallica is not crap!" Dean interrupted sounding offended.

"Whatever. I might not know all the music you do, but I still know you better than anyone. Which is why when I was out I got you the perfect gift." Sam teased.

"What is it?" Dean asked warily, the last present Sam had given him was a book of archaic Latin translations.

"I know you're bummed about not feeling up to doing much today so I got you something you can look at while you stay in bed and trust me this is something you won't mind staying in bed for." Sam replied mysteriously.

He stood up and grabbed the plastic bag he'd brought in earlier from the floor and tossed it onto the bed next to Dean. Still giving Sam an untrusting look Dean opened the bag and dumped the contents onto the bed.

"Busty Vixens, Chicks and Cars, Asian Honeys!" Dean shouted excitedly as he sorted through the stack of magazines. "Dude you got me porn?!"

"Well I was just trying to think, what does Dean like looking at more than anything in the world. And the answer was obviously naked women." Sam explained with a large smile.

Dean began flipping through one of the magazines and commenting loudly about the centerfolds enormous assets. Sam grabbed a motel room key and the keys to the Impala.

"Yeah so um I'm just gonna give you some privacy, I'll be back in a few hours." Sam said.

Dean didn't so much as look up when Sam left the room.

A/N- So of course if Dean is never going to see again he's going to want to look at porn!


	6. Chapter 6

The day of Dean's surgery dawned gray and overcast. Dean hadn't slept. Between knowing that the time he had left with his vision was trickling away, fear over the fact that in a few short hours someone was going to be cutting into his brain, and the pain which was slowly making him feel like he was going crazy; sleep just wasn't a thing his brain was willing to give. He figured it didn't matter too much, after the surgery he'd be sleeping a lot.

When his phone alarm went off at six a.m. he was lying perfectly still on his back staring into the darkness at the blinking light of the smoke detector on the ceiling. In the next bed over he heard Sam's breathing change as he woke up. Neither brother spoke as they slowly pulled on clothes. Sam put on a pair of jeans and a button down shirt while Dean dressed only in a pair of pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. The hospital had instructed him to dress comfortably and he figured pajamas were about as comfortable you could get without being naked.

"You ready?" Sam asked quietly.

"Not really." Dean quipped and sat up with slow deliberate care. He hadn't been allowed to take any pain pills after midnight and the pain in his head had risen to biblical standards. He stood up and almost instantly began to fall as a wave of vertigo hit him like a mac truck. Sam's quick reflexes were fast enough to catch Dean before he could take a header into the nightstand.

"Dean? You ok?" He asked with obvious fear and concern.

Dean nodded and held onto Sam tightly. "Can't believe I'm saying this but I think I'm actually looking forward to this surgery. I mean at least once I heal up the pain will be gone. Of course I'll never see boobs or my car again, so… I guess it's kind of a wash."

Sam eased Dean back down onto the bed and placed his tennis shoes beside him so that Dean could put his shoes on while sitting down. The silence in the room was so apparent it was almost like having a third person in the room with them.

"I'm scared Sammy." Dean admitted in a small voice.

"I know you are Dean. I am too. I mean I already lost you once this year, I don't want to lose you again." Sam replied.

"Sam you really think something like brain surgery is enough to kill me?" Dean joked.

Sam laughed. "Probably not, but I mean just think of how hard it will be on that poor surgeon, operating on something that tiny." He teased.

"Ha ha. I might not have a big brain, but I've got other parts that are enormous." He bragged and grabbed his crotch.

"Way too much information dude." Sam groaned and dramatically turned his head away from his brother.

Dean stood up again once his shoes were on, more cautiously this time and managed to stay on his feet although he needed to put an arm around Sam to make it out to the car.

_Last time I'm ever gonna see the sky and it's cloudy outside._ Dean thought bitterly, wondering why he never could catch a break.

He spent the ride to the hospital studying the inside of his beloved car, trying to sear every detail into his memory. He didn't know if there was a more beautiful sight in all the world than his car. He was glad that if he did have to go blind in just a couple hours that he at least got to spend some of his remaining time in his baby.

"Dude I swear to God if you laugh at me I'm going to kick your ass, blind or not!" Dean threatened as a nurse wheeled him into his hospital room after prepping him for the surgery. He was wearing a hospital gown, had an I.V. snaking out of back of one hand, and his head had been shaved completely bald.

"Actually you kind of pull it off." Sam assured him, but failed to hide his smile.

"I saw that." Dean warned.

A soft knocking on the door interrupted any further sibling squabbles and they both turned to see Bobby crack the door and poke his head in. "Can I come in?"

Dean nodded and waved for him to enter the room. "Hey Bobby."

Bobby grabbed a chair in the room and pulled it close to Dean's bed. He didn't speak but just simply let Dean know that his presence was there, supporting Dean.

Another knock on the door happened suddenly. A nurse poked her head in. "I just need to check your vitals." She explained.

"You're blood pressure and pulse rate are elevated. Are you feeling anxiety about the surgery?" She asked as she finished examining him.

"What the hell do you think? I'm about to have my skull cut open and my brain operated on. Plus I'll be going blind pretty soon." Dean snapped.

The nurse gave him a sympathetic smile and excused his rude outburst. "Well when you put it that way… I'm sorry to have just stated the obvious so bluntly." She apologized. "I'm going to go get you something to relax you and hopefully bring your vitals down a bit. As they are right now the anesthesiologist isn't going to want to put you under."

Dean nodded and tried to give her an apologetic smile. "Thanks. Sorry I yelled at you."

She gave him another sympathetic. "It's perfectly alright, you have every right to be on edge and scared. I'm very sorry that this is happening to you."

She stepped from the room and was back a minute or two later with a syringe in her hand. She pushed a few buttons on the I.V. machine and then inserted the needle of the syringe into a port on the I.V. line. "This is going to make you pretty loopy, but it should calm you down quite a bit." She explained as she pushed the medicine into the plastic tube.

She had barely even finished giving him the medicine when Dean's eyes turned glassy and his head rolled back onto his pillow. "Whoa, this is weird." He slurred and gave Bobby and Sam a dopey smile.

"I'll be back in about fifteen minutes to check your vitals and see if they've come down." The nurse promised as she finished up with his I.V. and walked out of the room.

Dean rubbed a hand over his freshly shaved head and began to giggle hysterically.

"What's so funny?" Bobby asked.

"I was just thinking it's a good thing this is happening to me and not Sammy." Dean said.

"Why do you say that?" Sam asked.

"Cause you'd probably die if they had to shave off all your hair." He explained, laughing loudly.

Bobby burst out laughing too and Sam gave them both a disgruntled glare. "Fine I'll let you have that one since you're about to get you head operated on."

True to her word the nurse reappeared fifteen minutes later to take Dean's vitals once again. She declared that they'd gone down enough to proceed and left to get an orderly to wheel Dean's bed to the operating room. Sam followed Dean as far as he was allowed, wanting to give his brother as much support as possible.

"Dude stop giving me bitch-face!" Dean snapped as they entered an elevator.

"Bitch-face?" Sam asked, confused.

"Yeah you've got that sad broody look on your face. Like someone just told you they shot your puppy or something. If this is the last time I ever get to see my brother I don't want to remember him having bitch-face." Dean explained.

"Sorry I didn't realize I was doing that." Sam said and tried valiantly to put a smile on his face.

The elevator dinged and they all exited onto the surgical ward. "This is as far as you can go. The surgical waiting room is right over there. Someone will come find you to give you an update once Dean's in recovery." The nurse explained as she pointed out the waiting room to Sam.

He nodded and stopped following the bed. They were rolling Dean backwards, which Sam was grateful for; it meant that he and Dean could keep their eyes locked for as long as possible. As Dean was wheeled down the hall and towards a set of doors Sam felt his smile quiver, but he forced himself to take a breath and look happy. Dean was right if this was the last time he'd ever see Sam then it should be with a smile on Sam's face. As the doors opened Dean gave Sam a smile and a thumbs up like what was happening was no big deal. Then the doors closed and just like that he was gone.

Sam and Bobby sat silently together in the waiting room, idly watching the t.v. which played in one corner and flipping through magazines that neither of them had any interest in. They ate a quick lunch in the cafeteria and the hurried back to the surgical ward where they continued to wait. Six hours after Dean had been taken back Dr. Mcguire appeared in the waiting room, still dressed in his surgical scrubs. The look on his face was hard to read, but Sam could tell that it wasn't a happy expression. His heart began to pound as the doctor joined them and took a seat across from Sam.

"Is my brother ok?" Sam asked.

Dr. Mcguire nodded. "He came through the surgery without any trouble and he's stable. We were lucky enough to be able to remove the entire tumor and luckily it was benign, so he won't need chemotherapy."

"But?" Sam pushed; he could tell that the doctor was holding back some vital piece of information.

The doctor sighed sadly and cleared his throat. "But the tumor was much bigger than we'd estimated based on the MRI images. We were forced to remove the entire Occipital Lobe in order to get the entire tumor out."

"So what's that mean?" Bobby asked.

"It means that when Dean wakes up he's going to be totally blind. No object recognition or light perception. I'm so sorry, if I could have done anything else I would have, but this was the only way we could save his life." The doctor admitted regretfully.

Sam didn't know what to say. He thought he'd prepared for this outcome, but now that it had arrived he realized that he wasn't prepared at all. His brother was blind. The brother who'd always looked out for him, who'd protected him, the man who'd practically raised him was never going to see again.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean wasn't fully conscious for three days. Sam sat by his side nearly the entire time. Dean drifted in and out of consciousness and was confused each time by the total darkness he was seeing. Sam tried to explain things to him many times but Dean was too out of it to hold onto the information. Finally on the evening of the third day Dean let out a long slow breath and his eyes fluttered open.

His face wrinkled in confusion as his eyes darted around the room, trying desperately to see anything.

"Dean it's alright, I'm right here." Sam soothed as he scooted closer to the bed and grabbed Dean's hand in his own.

Dean gripped Sam's hand with surprising strength considering he was still recovering from brain surgery. He held onto the offered hand like it was a buoy in the middle of a stormy sea.

"Sam? I can't… What's happening? I can't see anything." Dean asked in a weak hoarse voice.

"Remember the surgery Dean? They had to remove a tumor." Sam explained gently.

Understanding passed over Dean's face and the death grip he had on Sam's hand lessened just a little. "I can't see anything Sammy. I thought I'd still be able to see some things, but it's completely dark." He revealed.

"I know Dean. The tumor was a lot bigger than they thought it was. They didn't have any choice they had to remove the entire Occipital Lobe. I'm so sorry." Sam informed him.

Dean was quiet for a long time. Sam watched him for signs of some sort of break down, but Dean's face was frustratingly passive. His eyes held a blank far off look like he was scanning for something in the distance. Sam felt himself fighting back tears as he looked into Dean's blind eyes. God he'd do anything to fix him, anything except the one thing that he knew would work.

"So I'm totally blind then huh?" Dean asked, he already knew the answer but he needed to hear it out loud.

"Yeah you are." Sam admitted.

"Well that sucks." Dean muttered as he fell back into a fitful sleep.

He was in the hospital for almost two weeks. Besides Hell Dean thought that the first two weeks in the hospital were the hardest times in his life. He was lost in a sea of darkness, it felt like a blanket constantly smothering him. He thought he'd understood what blindness would be like but he was wrong. It was something that could never be described to someone who still had their sight. It wasn't just the lack of being able to see which was bad, but the constant feelings of confusion and vulnerability. He couldn't get to the bathroom without someone leading him there, he couldn't eat without someone telling him where his food was and even then by the time he was finished he looked like a toddler learning to feed itself.

Plus there was the boredom. He couldn't see the TV and found that just trying to listen to anything was frustrating and confusing. He obviously couldn't read, although everyone told him that once he learned Braille things would be easier. The blindness seemed so all encompassing he couldn't possibly see an escape from it. His equilibrium was gone, just standing up caused to him to feel like the world was spinning like a merry-go-round. The doctors and nurses were so full of promises, that once he finished rehab he'd be independent, but he had serious doubts about that.

The night before he was scheduled to be released he sat on the edge of his bed bouncing his legs up and down in nervousness. A nurse had just removed the bandage from his incision, which was a relief to not have the itchy tape wrapping around his head. Gingerly he felt the cut which ran vertically across the back of his skull. It didn't hurt much anymore, just a dull ache, but he was sure it looked nasty.

"So how bad is it?" Dean asked turning his head in the direction he was fairly sure his brother was sitting in.

"How bad is what?" Sam asked.

"My head, how gross does it look? Be honest." Dean explained as he turned around so that Sam could examine the incision.

Sam was silent as he studied the cut, which was closed with staples. It vaguely reminded him of Frankenstein's Monster, but not nearly as bad. "It's kind of gross but not too bad. It looks weird with the staples in it but I think once those come out it won't look bad at all. Plus once your hair grows back it won't show."

Dean nodded and gave Sam a small smile. "That's good I guess."

Sam floundered as he tried to think of something else to say. The problem was there wasn't anything to say. If he told Dean he was sorry, Dean would take it as a sign of pity. If he asked if there was anything he could do, Dean would simply refuse the help. Finally he said the only thing he could think of.

"This blows dude." He admitted.

Dean smiled and nodded. "Yeah it really does. I'm sorry you're stuck with me like this. I didn't mean to mess up your life."

Sam turned so he was facing Dean and grabbed his older brother by the shoulders, holding him tightly so that they were face to face. "Dean don't ever think you're messing up my life. You're my brother. It's that simple. If the situation was reversed would you feel like I was messing up your life?"

Dean's face twisted with grief, his hands reached up and gripped Sam's wrists. "I'm just so scared Sammy. All the things we've done and seen. None of that was as scary as this… this nothingness. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know Dean. But whatever happens you're going to be fine. Dean you bounced back from being in Hell, you can handle this. Plus I'm sure you're going to start feeling more hopeful once you start rehab. They'll teach you how to function so that you don't need help all the time. I promise things are going to get better."

Sam's voice was so earnest and caring that Dean couldn't help but smile. Things in his life might suck ass but at least he had Sam to watch his back.

The next morning they left the hospital and headed for the rehab center in Ft. Collins, Colorado. It was strange to be riding in a car without the benefit of sight. Dean felt himself getting slightly woozy from the motion of the car. He closed his eyes and noted bitterly that it made no difference to his vision, or lack of vision to be more accurate.

"Mr. Winchester welcome to Hetfield, I'm Faith I'm going to be your mobility instructor. You'll meet your other instructors later but I thought I'd come and help you get settled." A woman said brightly as Dean climbed out of the Impala.

"Wow is that a '67 Impala? She's beautiful!" Faith exclaimed.

Dean felt a wash of pride as she praised his baby.

"Yep it's a '67, that's impressive, you know your cars?" Dean asked.

"My dad was a mechanic, he loved classic muscle cars. We had an Impala for a while until he finished fixing her up and sold her." Faith explained.

Dean smiled and listened intently as Sam grabbed his bags from the car. "Alright well let's go in and I'll show you around."

"Um I can't see anything remember? How the hell are you going to show me around?" Dean grumbled, all the happiness over his car disappearing in an instant and the rage and fear came rushing back to him.

"You really think just because you're blind you don't need to know where things are? One thing you'll learn quickly here at Hetfield Dean, we aren't going to baby you. We're here to help you learn how to help yourself. By the time you leave I'm determined to have you completely mobile, literate, and able to live and travel totally on your own." Faith insisted passionately.

Dean let out a scoff of disbelief, but said nothing.

"You must be Dean's brother, Sam right? We talked on the phone." She introduced and stuck a hand out to Sam.

"Hey Faith it's nice to meet you in person." Sam replied as he returned the handshake.

"Alright let's go in." She said brightly.

Sam grabbed Dean's elbow and began pulling him in the direction of the front doors.

"Ok lesson number one is for Sam. I'm going to show you how to be a proper sighted guide. You don't want to grab a blind person's arm and try to pull them. Not only does it take away any control they have, but often the sighted guide is the one who ends up smacking into something because they're busy looking back to check on the person who they're pulling. The easiest way is to let the blind person hold onto you right here above the elbow. That way you both can walk normally." She explained as she placed Dean's hand onto the back of Sam's arm where he was supposed to grip.

"To show whoever you're leading that you're ready to be a sighted guide for them, it's easiest to just tap the back of their hand with your own. That way they can orientate themselves to where you are and have the option of whether or not they want a sighted guide to begin with. Does that make sense to both of you?" Faith asked.

The brother's both nodded and started forward again, this time using the correct sighted guide protocol, which Dean had to admit was better than having Sam just pull him along.

Faith spent the next half hour showing the Winchesters around the facility and ended the tour in Dean's room. Once there she made sure that Dean had a good grasp on where everything was and then helped him unpack his clothing and organize them to be easy to access without him having to see. Finally she bid them both good bye and left with a promise to see Dean bright and early the next morning.

After she departed Sam and Dean sat in silence for a few minutes. "Well I guess I should probably head to my motel, it's getting late." Sam finally said, breaking the silence.

Dean felt his stomach clench in fear as his brother prepared to leave. He felt at least a little secure when his brother was with him. After all they'd been watching each other's backs for years. But without his brother near him he again felt the enveloping terror of blindness, like he was constantly standing on the edge of a black void of nothingness which threatened to suck him in at any second. Despite the terror he was feeling inside he simply nodded his understanding.

"Ok well I'll be staying at a motel that's only two blocks from here. I wrote the number and my room number down." Sam continued and pressed a small piece of paper into Dean's hand.

Dean rubbed his hand over the smooth paper, feeling the slight indentation of pen strokes, but having no clue what they could possibly say. "Uh- Sammy?" He stammered and held out the paper which he would never be able to read.

"Oh shit Dean, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about the fact that you wouldn't be able to read it." Sam exclaimed.

"Sam stop. It's fine. I'm guessing we're gonna have a lot of crap like this to deal with pretty soon. Just tell me your room number and the phone number, I can remember it. And if I can't I'll just have one of the therapists help me." Dean comforted.

"I still don't know how in the hell you're dealing with all of this so well." Sam remarked.

"I told you before I can either suck it up and deal or give up. I figure that if I can handle all the crap life's thrown at me so far and I can handle this too." Dean explained as he gestured up towards his now useless eyes.

Sam suddenly leaned forward and hugged his brother hard, slapping him on the back at the end to make the exchange at least a little manly. "I know this might sound condescending Dean, but I'm really proud of you."

"Yeah that does sound just a little condescending but thanks." Dean replied with a laugh.

Sam read him the number for the hotel and room number twice and then Dean recited it back to him perfectly. Just before Sam left the room he opened Dean's hand and dropped the keys to the Impala into them.

"Uh Sammy I'm really not gonna need these any time soon. Plus don't you need the car to get to the motel?" Dean asked.

"Nah- like I said the motel is only like two blocks from here, I can walk. This way you can go out and visit your girl whenever you want." Sam explained.

"Thanks Sammy." Dean mumbled and then listened as his brother's footsteps left the room and echoed down the hallway until they disappeared.

Once he knew Sam was gone Dean laid down on his bed and pulled a pillow over his head. He hated the fact that nothing changed in his vision when the pillow went over his head. It was still just the same unending darkness. Alone in his own personal darkness Dean finally allowed himself to cry for everything that he had lost. He was still crying when he finally fell asleep later.

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A/N- Hey sorry it took a few days to update. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, although it's kind of a downer. Thank you again so much for reading my story and I'd love some more reviews, even if they're of the negative variety. I'd just like to get some feedback to know if people are enjoying this story. Also I just found out I'll be having wrist surgery on Aug. 9th. I'll try and get some chapters written so that I can post them while I heal, but just a warning that updates may be delayed while my hand is all braced up and I can't type.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean learned in the following few days that Faith hadn't lied when she said that the rehab staff wouldn't baby him. Being at the rehab center was like being back in school and school was one thing Dean had never excelled at, mainly because he'd never had the patience for it. Being blind forced Dean to be more patient. If he didn't take his time and think about his actions he ended up hurting himself or misplacing his things.

"No I told you I don't want the damn thing!" Dean shouted. He'd been at the Hetfield Center for just over a week and was currently in his mobility class.

His teacher, Linda, was insistent that he learn to use a long white cane to help himself get around. Dean was horrified at the idea and had thrown the cane to the ground when she'd placed it in his hands.

"Well now you'll have to pick that up Dean. I hope you were listening to where it landed." Linda said pointedly, showing no aggravation as his outburst.

Dean sighed and squatted down to begin feeling around on the ground in the location where he thought he'd thrown the cane. His hand finally brushed it after thirty seconds or so. He picked the cane up and shoved it in Linda's direction. "Here I really don't want to use this thing."

"Why don't you want to learn to use the cane Dean? It will make it so much easier for you to move around safely on your own." Linda persuaded.

Dean huffed, "If I use that thing everyone will know I'm blind as soon as they see me." Dean explained.

Linda stepped to Dean and put a hand on his shoulder. "Dean don't you think people will figure it out when you walk into a lap post or stumble over a curb? I'm sorry to put it so bluntly, but this is your reality now. There is absolutely no reason for you to feel embarrassed or ashamed about being blind. I realize that you've lost more than just your sight. You've lost your independence. The cane will help you get that back. Once you're proficient in using it you'll be able to go almost anywhere without needing the help of others. Wouldn't that be better than constantly having to rely on someone to guide you?"

Dean thought about what she said and realized she was right. He didn't have many options, either learn to use the cane or constantly depend on others to help him around. "Alright fine I'II try the cane." He finally consented.

Over the next two hours Linda patiently explained how to hold the cane and how to use it to find his way around obstacles in his path. By the time his mobility class was over that day he had managed to walk around all of the obstacles that Linda had set up in the gym where he took the class.

"You're doing very well Dean. It usually takes people at least two or three sessions to make it through my obstacle course." Linda praised. "Why don't you keep the training cane and practice with it around the center? Hopefully the collapsible cane we ordered for you will be here within a day or so."

Dean smiled in what he hoped was her direction. "Thanks. So um- are you going to take me back to my room now?"

"How about this; instead of us going sighted guide you try to get there by yourself using just the cane. I'll walk with you just in case you need some help. Do you remember how to get to your room from here?" Linda asked.

Dean nodded uncertainly and bit his lower lip. "Yeah I think so." He turned in the direction of the door and walked until he felt the tip of his cane hit the wall. He then slid the cane along the bottom of the wall until he came to the doorway. Moving cautiously Dean swung the cane back and forth so that he could get an idea of how wide the doorway was. He stepped into the doorway and then stopped.

"Dean?" Linda called from behind him, her voice full of concern.

"It's just scary. Like I'm walking off the edge of a cliff or something. Does that ever go away?" He asked.

Linda stepped up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "It will go away I promise. Someday you won't even stop to think about it before you step through a doorway. It will be just as natural as it was before you lost your vision, just natural in a different way."

Dean nodded and took a deep breath before stepping out into the hall. Using the skills he'd just learned Dean navigated through the halls and back towards his room. He didn't walk with the sure confidence he had before and he hoped that someday he would have that back.

When he found the door to what he thought was his room he stopped. "Am I at the right room?" He called over his shoulder to Linda.

"You got it Dean! Great job!" Linda exclaimed proudly.

Dean slid a hand up the wall to the room number plate and felt the Braille lettering which he guessed was his room number. The small bumps under his fingers made no sense to him yet but he memorized the pattern anyway so that next time he went to his room on his own he could check and make sure he was at the right place.

He smiled triumphantly as he stepped into his room, truly proud of himself that he'd actually done something all on his own.

"Alright well I'll leave you here. Have a good weekend Dean; I'll see you on Monday." Linda called from the door.

Dean smiled in her direction. "Thanks Linda, see you on Monday." He responded, although it almost hurt to use the word "see".

Linda had only been gone for ten minutes before Dean was bored out of his mind. It was Friday afternoon so his classes finished early for the day. Sam usually came by to hang out with him or take him to the motel so he could have a change of scenery, so to speak. But Sam had called him last night and told him that he'd be busy all day on Friday and wouldn't see him until Saturday. Dean wondered briefly if Sam was busy with a case, but pushed the thought out of his mind quickly. It hurt too much to think about hunting at all and if he thought about Sam working a case on his own all he'd do was worry.

Dean paced the small room back and forth. He'd had the layout memorized since his first night there and as he paced he subconsciously counted out the steps. One, two, three, four and he was at the wall with the window. He closed his eyes although it made no difference and enjoyed the feeling of the warm sunlight on his face. He opened his eyes and stared in the general direction of the sun. His eyes watered and stung from the sunlight. He grimaced and turned away from the window, it sucked to think that his eyes were still working perfectly fine, it was just his messed up brain causing his blindness.

"Hey Dean." A female voice called brightly from his doorway.

He turned and smiled, "Hey Faith." He returned just as brightly. During the week Faith had become his favorite therapist. She was always honest with him and there was more than a little bit of flirting going back and forth between the two.

"You look bored. Want to get out of here for a while?" She asked.

Dean's smiled grew wider. "Hell yeah I do!"

"So do you happen to have the keys to the Impala or does your brother have them?" Faith asked.

"I've got them. I'm pretty sure they're over on the nightstand. So what you don't have a car or something?" Dean asked as he listened to the sounds of Faith picking up the keys.

"No I've got a car, but I just thought maybe if you didn't mind I could drive the Impala, she's a beauty. I bet she's got some power to her." Faith admitted.

Dean could actually hear the hopeful smile in her voice as she admitted she wanted to drive his car. Usually Dean would have instantly denied the request of letting someone else drive his baby, but he'd never drive her again and he figured she deserved to be taken out for a ride.

"Alright I'll let you drive her but just understand I'm doing this with hesitation. You crash her and I'll never forgive you." He warned.

"No crashing I promise!" Faith laughed.

Faith walked to Dean and tapped the back of his hand so that he could grasp her elbow and she could lead him. He thought about taking his cane, but he didn't feel confident enough to use it outside the rehab center yet.

As soon as he sat down in the passenger seat of his car he instantly felt a little better about things. Faith started up the engine and let out a sigh of happiness at the purr of the engine. "Oh yeah, she's a beauty alright."

Faith drove them to a burger joint and got food from the drive-thru. After she'd picked up the food she drove for a long time.

"Are we on dirt roads?" Dean asked as he paid attention to the feeling of the vibrations beneath him.

"Yes it is, good job for noticing. I'm taking us to my favorite spot in the world." Faith explained.

"Just don't hurt the shocks." He cautioned.

They finally stopped and Dean cautiously climbed out of the passenger seat and felt around with his foot to get an idea of the terrain he would be walking on. He kept his left hand on the car and followed it to the hood of the car and leaned against it. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the fresh smell of mountain air; pine, flowers, water, grass, and a total lack of pollution. In front of him he could hear the gentle rumbling of a stream or river. Birds and insects filled the air with a constant cacophony of sounds. He'd never realized before just how much there was to smell and listen to in the world.

"This is nice." He complimented when he felt her take a seat beside him on the hood.

"Thanks, my dad used to take me here when I was a kid. There's a stream right in front of us with lots of cattails growing around it. We're parked in a field of green grass about knee high. There are a lot of wild flowers in the grass; blue, yellow, and pink ones. The tree line starts about ten feet past the stream. Mostly Fur trees, but there are some Cottonwoods mixed in as well." She described to him.

He pictured everything in his mind and smiled gently at the lovely scene she'd painted in his mind. "Thanks its nice hearing about what things look like." He whispered.

"So can I ask how'd you get into working with the blind?" He asked a few minutes later.

"Oh well my dad was blinded when I was fifteen. I saw how hard it was for him to adjust and he had a really hard time in rehab. There weren't many therapists who were patient and understanding. It was like some sort of military boot camp. They taught him the basics like Braille and cane guidance, but they didn't do anything to deal with the emotional impact of being blinded. I just knew that someday I wanted to work at a place where I could provide support for people going through what my dad did." She explained.

Dean absorbed her story. "That's really kind of you and I do appreciate you being here for me. I know I've been kind of a dick for the last week, sorry about that."

Faith put a hand on Dean's upper arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry about it Dean, it's completely normal to be upset and frustrated at first. I promise it'll pass."

Dean turned in her general direction and tried to point his eyes towards what he hoped was her face. He moved a hand up her arm, brushing her neck gently, and then moved his hand up to trace the line of her jaw to her chin and then up to her lips. His thumb brushed over her lower lip and he heard her suck in a sudden breath of excitement. He moved slowly towards her, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to.

She didn't pull away, but instead leaned forward to meet her lips with his. He started the kiss gently but soon it turned into a rough passionate kiss. He pushed her back onto the hood of the Impala and leaned over her. He kept one hand on her shoulder and moved the other up slowly to gently brush his thumb over first one nipple then the other.

He wasn't sure if what he was doing was the best idea. She was after all one of his therapists; she was responsible for teaching him how to live as a blind man. Sleeping with her might be a terrible idea in the end. But his body was crying out for her. He hadn't gone this long without sex in a long time.

Pushing the doubts to the back of his mind he pulled her shirt off and explored her body with his fingers; using them to give him the sensory information which his eyes no longer could. She was beautiful, soft creamy skin and curves in all the right places. She responded to his every touch and was now letting out quiet mewls of pleasure. She placed her mouth on his neck and lightly licked his pulse point. Dean groaned and for the next forty-five minutes thought of nothing other than the woman giving him such pleasure.

"Well I didn't really expect that to happen." Faith gasped as they both began to get dressed again.

"Yeah um- sorry if I crossed the line, I'm not sure what I was thinking." Dean apologized as he felt around on the ground for his t-shirt.

"Dean did you hear me protesting? I'm a big girl, if I didn't want to have sex with you I wouldn't have." Faith assured him.

He finally got frustrated and stood up. "Faith can you see my shirt anywhere? I can't find it."

Faith slid off of the Impala and looked around for the missing shirt. Even with her sight it took her a minute to find the lost article of clothing. Somehow they'd thrown to the side and it had fallen behind the right wheel of the Impala.

"Here you go." She said lightly as she pressed the shirt into his hands.

Dean felt the shirt until he located the tag and then pulled the shirt over his head, covering the tight beautiful abs which Faith couldn't help but stare at. "This really sucks, I can't even find my own damn shirt."

Faith pulled him into her arms and gave him a soft kiss. "Hey didn't you ever once lose a piece of clothing before you couldn't see?"

"Well yeah." Dean admitted.

Faith laughed and gave him another quick kiss. "See? It's not all about you being blind, sometimes things just get lost. No matter how strong you are sometimes you just need help. So don't be afraid or ashamed to ask for help when you need it, everyone does from time to time."

Dean pulled her close and buried his face in her hair smelling the clean scent of her hair. It was the calmest he'd felt since he'd woken up after the surgery. "Thanks Faith, for everything."

Just as Faith was going to reply her stomach rumbled loudly and they both laughed. "Well I'm guessing are burgers are pretty cold by now, but I'm still willing to eat them if you are." Faith said.

"Trust me I've never turned down a burger in my life and I'm not about to start now. Especially after the workout we just had." Dean laughed.

"How bout you get our food out? The bags are in the back on the floor behind the passenger seat." Faith instructed.

Dean appreciated the fact that she asked him to do things and didn't simply do them for him. He again used his hand to feel along the car until he found the back passenger door and pulled the food out. "Hey where do you want to eat?" He called as he felt around to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

"I don't know how about like five feet in front of the car in the grass? We can have a picnic." She called from somewhere behind him.

"What are you doing anyway?" He asked as he carefully made his way to the place she'd described.

"I'm checking the trunk for a blanket." She called.

"Wait!" Dean shouted just as he heard the unmistakable click of the trunk popping open.

Dean winced and waited for the questions and possible freak out that was sure to come when she saw the collection of weapons and various other Hunter paraphernalia which filled the compartment.

It was quite for over a minute as Dean stood uncertainly in the middle of a field, bags of drive-thru food clutched in his hands. Finally he heard the clicking of the trunk closing and Faith's slow footsteps as she joined him.

"So how long have you been a Hunter?" Faith asked calmly.

Dean's mouth dropped open as he stood dumbly and tried to think of something to say.


End file.
